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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27183172">here for the candy</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegrayness/pseuds/thegrayness'>thegrayness</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Schitt's Creek</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Candy, Halloween, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 03:14:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,062</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27183172</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegrayness/pseuds/thegrayness</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>For the prompt: David is reluctant about handing out candy to trick-or-treaters because really he wants to eat it himself.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>David Rose/Food, Patrick Brewer/David Rose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>81</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Schitt's Creek Trick Or Treat</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>here for the candy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">



        <li>In response to a prompt by
            Anonymous in the <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/collections/SCTrickOrTreat">SCTrickOrTreat</a>
          collection.
        </li>
    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello, prompter, I hope you like it!!</p><p>Thanks to my beta and everyone else who pats my hair when I whine about writing.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>David leans heavily against the front door, reaching back to twist the lock into place. It’s been a long day, complete with vendor shipments and a clumsy customer who looked like she was having a terrible day and then promptly knocked over five massage candles, breaking every single one. There was also what Patrick likes to call the ol’ lunch switcheroo from Twyla that left David with an undesired and unpalatable bologna sandwich that he was definitely not going to eat. Patrick gave David his own chicken noodle soup, because he’s a good husband. David gave Patrick a kiss on the cheek.</p><p>He pulls off his coat and hangs it in their coat closet—they have a <em> coat closet</em>—and drops his bag on the couch on his way to the kitchen. He pulls open the fridge to contemplate what he already knows is inside: nothing appealing. David doesn’t even know what he <em> wants </em> to eat. </p><p>Patrick’s at baseball practice, and he usually decides what they eat. It’s just easier, because David can never really decide what he wants and when he does, it’s usually something so specific it’s inaccessible. </p><p>He flops dramatically on the couch and pulls his phone out of his pocket to text Stevie, invites her over—she’s good at choosing. He drops his phone on his stomach and sighs heavily, glancing around the open space, gaze catching on the details he painstakingly put together for the aesthetic he was going for. </p><p>Stevie responds with two insults and tells him she’s got plans.</p><p>“Vague much?” David mutters and sends back the rolling eyes emoji. </p><p>David sits up again and looks forlornly into the kitchen and his eyes catch on a bag of Cadbury Crunchies—one of his favorite candies. He gasps in delight and clambers off the couch, picking up the bag and clutching it to his chest. Obviously the candy gods have decided he deserves a great treat after the long day he’s had. </p><p>He pulls the bag open and unwraps a chocolate, popping it in his mouth as he considers the merits of eating the entire supply for dinner. He’ll probably regret it, so he decides to eat half now and wait for Patrick to get home to decide on dinner. </p><p>David dumps the candies in a bowl and sits down for a few episodes of <em> Ted Lasso</em>. </p><p>*</p><p>David startles out of his sugar coma when Patrick opens their front door and drops his bag to the floor with a thud. He stretches a little, pressing his toes into the arm of the couch, and peeks over his shoulder. “Hi, honey,” he greets as Patrick kicks off his shoes. </p><p>“Hi, David,” Patrick says, walking closer to kiss David once on the forehead and then again on the lips. “How was—<em>David</em>,” he says haltingly. He’s glancing at the near-empty candy bowl nestled between David and the back of the couch.</p><p><em> “What? </em>You know I’m bad at picking dinner!” David says defensively, tucking the bowl into the crook of his elbow. </p><p>“No it’s just—” Patrick huffs out a laugh. “That candy was for the kids.”</p><p>David narrows his eyes. “<em>What </em> kids?” </p><p>Patrick wrestles the bowl from his grip and sets it on the coffee table before nudging David’s feet out of the way and sitting next to him. He at least has the decency to rearrange David’s legs back across his lap. “The trick-or-treaters, David.”</p><p>David frowns and glances at the bowl. “Okay, are you even sure there <em> are </em> trick-or-treaters around here? Also—why would you buy trick-or-treaters <em> my </em> favorite candy?” </p><p>“It was on—”</p><p>“<em>Also </em> —it’s <em> three weeks </em> until Halloween did you honestly think a bag of Cadbury Crunchies was going to last that long?” To prove his point, David leans over and flails an arm towards the bowl, snatching a few more pieces. He rips one open with his teeth and shoves it in his mouth. </p><p>Patrick just stares at him, an amused look on his face. He plucks a candy out of David’s hand, unwraps and eats it. He holds David’s gaze as he chews, which—</p><p>“I hate you. Can you please choose a place for dinner?” David says, nudging Patrick’s thigh with his foot. Patrick pinches David’s socked toes and then unceremoniously shoves David’s legs off his lap. </p><p>“Feelin’ like a spring roll?” Patrick says, and David gets up on his knees to look over the back of the couch. <em> God</em>, a spring roll!</p><p>“Definitely,” he replies. “You always know what I’m feeling like.”</p><p>Patrick turns from where he’s looking at the takeout menu stuck to the fridge with a Rosebud Motel magnet. He smirks, leaning one hand against the small kitchen island. “I do always know that, don’t I?”</p><p>David returns the smile and props his chin on his hand. Poor candy planning aside, David’s grateful that Patrick always seems to know what he’s thinking--well, not <em> always</em>, which is a good thing for everyone involved. “Mmhmm. That’s why I married you.”</p><p>Patrick laughs—one of David’s favorite sounds—and pulls his phone out of his pocket. “Ah yes, the very romantic reason of ‘He knows what food I’m in the mood for,’” Patrick teases. </p><p>David clambers off the couch and hurries into the kitchen. “Oh, but Patrick,” he says, wiggling his way between his husband and the counter, settling his hand on Patrick’s chest. “It <em> is </em> romantic. And it’s not about <em> food</em>.” He walks his fingertips up to Patrick’s shoulders.</p><p>Patrick gives him a knowing look, but still wraps his arms around David’s waist.   </p><p>David continues. “Okay, it’s not <em> totally </em> about food.”</p><p>“Mm.” Patrick nods, brushing their noses together. </p><p>“It’s like when I got home and saw that you bought my favorite candy and—”</p><p>“—and then ate half the bag—”</p><p>“<em>Hey</em>, I am an <em> adult </em> and I will eat half a bag of candy if I want to.”</p><p>“Okay, okay,” Patrick mutters between laughs. </p><p>“<em>Anyway</em>. It’s like when I got home—alone I might add—” Patrick rolls his eyes, “—and saw that my wonderful, thoughtful husband bought me my favorite candy. <em> That </em> was so romantic for the hour I was home by myself until he came home and ruined it by informing me that he bought <em> strangers </em> a bag of my favorite candy.”</p><p>Patrick’s shoulders are shaking with laughter by now, and he’s pressing his face into David’s neck, letting out little snorts in an attempt to stifle his amusement. </p><p>David is not amused.</p><p>“I am not amused.”</p><p>Patrick kisses David’s neck, then trails his lips up to David’s jaw. “Amused yet?” Patrick whispers, but he still sounds like he’s laughing so David smacks him in the arm. “It’s Halloween, David.”</p><p>“It is <em> not </em> Halloween, it is October 10th and all candy is mine.”</p><p>Patrick leans back to plant a gentle kiss on David’s lips. “Fair enough,” Patrick murmurs. “Can I order the food now?”</p><p>“Please,” David breathes, nodding. </p><p>*</p><p>The subject doesn’t come up again until two weeks later when David is rummaging through the freezer for the bottle of vodka he knows is in here. Stevie is at their kitchen table, phone in one hand and an empty glass in the other. She shakes it obnoxiously, waiting for the vodka.</p><p>“I know it’s in here.” He shoves aside a bag of frozen french fries and then <em> he </em>freezes. There, sitting innocently against the back of the freezer is a bag of treat size Cadbury Crunchies. “Motherfu—”</p><p>“Did you find it?” Stevie’s next to him now, shoving her glass in his face. “You’re a terrible host. And bartender.”</p><p>David ignores her and snatches the candy. “I don’t <em> believe </em> him.” He says, slamming the door shut. </p><p>“So that’s a no on the vodka? That’s the only reason I came over.”</p><p>David glares at her. “You already told me you miss me, you can’t pretend you’re just here for the booze.” She’d just returned from a visit to a new motel in the Rosebud chain.</p><p>Stevie sighed and thunked her glass on the counter. “What’s with the candy?”</p><p>“My <em> husband </em> hid this in our freezer so he could save it for some <em> alleged </em>trick-or-treaters.” David scowls and rips the bag open, fishing one out and unwrapping it roughly. It’s frozen so David can’t chew it as angrily as he wants, but he savors the taste anyway. </p><p>“I guess you’re not saving these for the kids,” Stevie points out, digging her hand into the bag and pulling out a piece for herself.</p><p>“<em>Number one </em> there are no <em> kids, </em> Halloween is an entire week away and <em> number two </em> Patrick must have bought these before today so that means they’re mine, we had an <em> agreement </em>—all candy is mine until Halloween.”</p><p>Stevie smirks and takes another piece. “So like. You’re just going to buy candy <em> on </em> Halloween? There won’t be any good candy left.”</p><p>“<em>I </em> won’t be buying anything, and that sounds like the kids’ problem.” David’s over this whole thing already and it’s not even Halloween. It’s honestly not even <em> safe</em>—knocking on strangers’ doors… <em> opening </em> the door for strangers!  David disapproves all around. And he especially disapproves of Patrick—the troll—choosing his favorite candy to give away.</p><p>“You’ll be the hit of the neighborhood with that attitude. Do you at least have wine? Or am I supposed to just drink water?” </p><p>“You know where we keep the wine.” David rolls his eyes, grabs the bag, and heads for the couch. “I’ll take a glass, too.”</p><p>“Oh, sure, happy to wait on you in your own house. Aren’t you supposed to be a good host?”</p><p>David flops down. “Don’t be dramatic, just bring the bottle.” He sighs and eats another piece of candy. Stevie sits next to him, setting the bottle and two wine glasses down on the table. David grabs their spare wine opener from the bowl on the coffee table. He pulls the cork and pours them each a glass—Stevie first, and then himself, and then Stevie again when she takes two huge gulps of hers immediately. </p><p>David settles back into the couch, bag of candy between them. “So—tell me about the trip. Was it a disaster? Those photos were not promising.”</p><p>*</p><p>The next weekend, all stores on Main Street decided to close early for Halloween. David doesn’t <em> really </em> think that Halloween warrants an early retail closure, but he’s not about to complain. </p><p>He and Patrick leave separately from the store—Patrick takes the car to the store to pick up the candy since David’s restrictions have been lifted, and Stevie picks David up. The three of them are having a “scary” movie night.  </p><p>“Okay David,” Patrick says as he walks in the front door with two canvas Rose Apothecary bags. “Today's the day.”</p><p>David’s on the couch with Stevie, halfway through some horror film from the 70s that Stevie forced upon him that they both know Patrick is not interested in watching. The film is bad, horribly written, and not scary—even if they were watching it in the dark.  </p><p>“Actually, we already got married,” David says and Stevie snickers, both keeping their attention on the movie. “I’m sure you recall. I was in a stunning Thom Browne suit with a—”</p><p>“—I recall the skirt, David,” Patrick says roughly, and David hides a smirk. “Can you come over here and help me with these bags, please?”</p><p>David knows Patrick wants to set strict ground rules about his beloved trick-or-treaters’ candy, and David <em> did </em> technically agree to let him give candy away to strangers even though David expressed his explicit disapproval. Patrick just grinned at him and said, “Noted,” like he always does when he plans to ignore David’s brilliant advice.</p><p>“Coming, honey,” David says, dropping the bowl of popcorn in Stevie’s lap and pushing up off the couch. He stands at the counter where Patrick is pulling out way more candy than David thinks is necessary for trick-or-treaters, especially considering the rural road they live on. There’s a <em> farm </em> across the street. “Are we <em> hosting </em> the tick-or-treaters?”</p><p>Patrick just turns and grins at him. “Nope.” He pops the P obnoxiously and David tries to hide a smile. Amused, organized Patrick with a plan is one of David’s favorite Patricks. </p><p>“Mmkay, so are you gonna tell me why you bought ten bags of candy?”</p><p>“We’re going to play poker.”</p><p>Stevie pops her head up over the couch. “Poker?” She says, eyes lighting up. She kneels up on the couch. “Against David? <em> Yes</em>, I am in.”</p><p>“Um, no,” David tells Patrick. “<em>Extra </em> no,” he points at Stevie.</p><p>“With the candy!” Patrick shakes one bag in each hand. “I’ll reserve some for the trick-or-treaters, and we’ll use the rest for currency.”</p><p>Stevie clears her throat. “Okay,” she says skeptically. “But what do we get if we win?”</p><p>Patrick shakes the bags again. “The <em> candy, </em>Stevie.”</p><p>“I’m out,” she says. </p><p>“No you are <em> not</em>. We are having a movie night and you promised me <em> two </em> films before you go to Jake’s Halloween Whiskey Night. What’s your costume gonna be, anyway?”</p><p>Stevie crosses her arms and gives him a pointed look. </p><p>David gasps in delight. “Oh my <em> god</em>, you’re going as a pony aren’t you.”</p><p>She says nothing, just turns her head haughtily. </p><p>“You <em> have </em> to send me a picture.”</p><p>“There’s no photos allowed.”</p><p>Patrick is ignoring them both, getting bowls out of a cabinet and opening each bag of candy. </p><p>“Take one before—”</p><p>“Okay!” Patrick says. “Ready.”</p><p>David and Stevie turn their attention to Patrick, who is standing with his hands on his hips like he’s about to start an ice breaker at a business seminar. David notes all the candy arranged in tiny piles on the counter. He looks at Patrick, who is clearly <em> beyond </em> thrilled with himself. “Look at you with your big candy plan,” David teases, plucking at a silvery wrapper. </p><p>Patrick grins. “Thought you’d like that.” David leans over and kisses him square on the mouth.</p><p>“Gross,” Stevie gags from the living room.</p><p>*</p><p>Stevie’s losing by the time the second movie is over, so she says goodnight, promises to send no photographic evidence of her costume whatsoever, and grabs a handful of David’s candy on the way out. </p><p>“What—hey!”</p><p>She cackles her way out the door. </p><p>They’d had a few trick-or-treaters—one dressed quite brilliantly as Cruella de Vil—but it’s been mostly quiet on their little street. </p><p>Patrick sets another glass of wine down in front of David—it’s half full and David loves how much Patrick loves him. Patrick sits next to him on the couch, pressing his thigh against David’s. “Thanks, honey,” David says, squeezing Patrick’s shoulder and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. David’s lost count of his wine so far, but he feels floaty and warm, he’s sure his cheeks are flushed, and he lists sideways to rest his weight more heavily on Patrick. “Look at all my candyyyy,” he says, pulling his bowl of winnings onto his lap. </p><p>Patrick laughs softly. “Yes, David. Don’t spend it all in one place, huh?”</p><p>David snorts into Patrick’s shoulder, reaching forward to grab his wine and taking a big sip. He nuzzles at Patrick’s arm, and Patrick takes the hint and tucks David against his chest. “This was a good Halloween,” David says, taking another sip of wine, careful not to dribble any on Patrick’s sweater or into his bowl.</p><p>Patrick kisses David’s forehead. “The best,” he murmurs.</p><p>“You don’t have to say that—you just played fake poker to give your husband candy he definitely doesn’t need and then watched him get way drunker than you.” David smiles up at him. </p><p>“Yes,” Patrick agrees, gently moving David’s candy bowl back onto the coffee table. “It’s our first Halloween after the wedding. Our first in this house.” He nuzzles into David’s cheek and David sighs. </p><p>“We should probably bring some of this candy to the store to give out. But only ones with complementary wrappers.”</p><p>“Okay, I think that’s the wine talking, you’re not giving away your candy. Let’s clean up and head to bed.”</p><p>David pouts as Patrick pulls away and starts sweeping candy off the table. He doesn’t so much help as supervise Patrick’s tidying up of the living room. David does helpfully knock back the rest of the wine in his glass so Patrick can carry it into the kitchen. </p><p>“Ready?” Patrick says a few minutes later. David is now horizontal on the couch and he has no plans to get up anytime soon. “David, why’d you lay down?” Patrick laughs. He leans over like he’s going to kiss David, but his lips stay just out of reach unless David wants to lean up to close the distance. </p><p>He makes a noise of disapproval and frowns. “Hey,” he mumbles.</p><p>Patrick wiggles his hands underneath David’s shoulders to haul him into a sitting position. “Come on. We can exchange Halloween kisses upstairs.”</p><p>“Halloween kisses,” David repeats, clumsily swinging his legs off the couch and using Patrick’s shoulders to lever himself upright. Patrick’s so great. So sturdy and strong and thick. He pets Patrick’s shoulders. “You’re so thick.” He squeezes Patrick’s biceps. “Have you been working out?”</p><p>Patrick laughs and pulls David to their bedroom. “When would I have time for that? Maybe it’s from hauling boxes for the store.”</p><p>David ogles Patrick’s ass as he follows him down the hallway. “Is that where you got this, too?” David squeezes his ass cheek. Patrick stumbles briefly. </p><p>“David!” He sounds like he is trying to scold David, but he’s laughing and his cheeks are flushed and David wants to snuggle right inside Patrick’s sweater. He says as much, and Patrick stops and turns to face him, paused in the doorway to their bedroom. He’s grinning as he slips a hand behind David’s neck and nudges his nose against David’s. “You’ve already snuggled right inside my sweater,” he whispers, blinking slowly. </p><p>David slips his hands under the back of said sweater and hums happily. “<em>Yeah</em>, I have.”</p><p>Patrick snorts and pulls back, leading David further into the room. They get ready for bed—well, Patrick gets them both ready, pours David into the bed and slides in after him. David goes easily when Patrick gathers him close, pressing gentle kisses to David’s forehead and cheeks and neck and lips. </p><p>“Thanks for the candy, honey,” David mumbles into Patrick’s neck. </p><p>He hears Patrick laugh softly. “You’re welcome, David.”</p>
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